George hesitated slightly before accepting the glass of wine that Angelina had offered him. Normally he would have refused but he was having such a crappy few days and he’d been so good the last few months that he felt he deserved one drink. He took a sip before raising his glass, and then letting Angelina lead him to the couch.
“Are you okay, Ang? You don’t feel sick or anything do you?” He couldn’t help but worry about her, and he didn’t want to think about what would happen if she were one of the ones to her magic. No magic would mean no Quidditch and he knew how important Quidditch was to her. George placed the back of his hand against her forehead to see whether she had a high temperature, knowing that he was worrying too much.